Funerals and Revelations
by Aria Iulia Arlington
Summary: What if Shuyller wasn't a new soul, but one of the oldest ones? What if someone messed up with the Uncorrupted' destinies and the Blue bloods' memories? What if Shuyller wasn't lost from the beginning? SEE COMPLETE SUMARY INSIDE


Disclaimer: It's on my profile page. It's HUGE! … and detailed. The important thing is: I'm not receiving any money for this fanfic, or anything related to it. The number of Archangels is different too

Summary: What if Shuyller wasn't a new soul, but one of the oldest ones among the Blue Bloods? What if she wasn't exactly a Blue Blood to start with? What if someone messed up with the Uncorrupted' destinies and the Blue bloods' memories? What if Shuyller wasn't let floundering from the beginning, but was a self assured young lady with set plans for the future. Plans that involved, but didn't stop at, getting her mate and family back. People shouldn't mess around with the only angel to ever defeat Michael. What if the Blue and Silver bloods weren't the only kinds of angel's on Earth?

Pairings: Abbadon (Jack)/Jibrille (Shuyller), Michael (Charles)/Gabriele (Allegra); _**mentions of**_ Raziel (OC)/Lucipher, Raphael (OC)/Lillith (OC), Raphael (OC)/Keres (OC), and _**one sided**_ Michael/Jibrille (OC), Azrael (Mimi)/Abbadon (Jack) 

"..." other people sayings or Jack's thoughts

- ... _ speach 

* * *

><p>Benjamin Jonathan Force was one of the most envied young men in Manhattan. He had it all: fortune, intelligence, beauty, charisma and influence, but he didn´t see any of that. To him he was his father problem child, his mother unbearable one, his father's employees terror and his sister lapdog… his intelligence was being underestimated at the school, his popularity was due to fear of his father or lust for his sister, his friends were actually hers… he could barely stay put in their company and so what? It was not because he was admitedly very good at sports that he had to be stupid or galivate around after girls… It was so <em><strong>not<strong>_ his style. Not that people cared.

He hated Duchezne – so many expectations – he had asked several times to be removed from the school, he even accepted to be moved to the afternoon shift because he thought he could finally leave his sister's shadow, but she not only followed him, but made it seem like she was being forced to because of her moron of a brother. He never hated anyone in is life like he did her at that time.

He despised Sophie – his "mother" - to a point he could barely understand himself, imagine try to put into words. She was an absent mother to him, a stalker wife, doted so much on Madeline – his sister – it made his father and him sick, and treated the employees as if they were nothing instead of the best in New York. She was also absurdly arrogant… really the woman thought too much of herself, forgetting she and them – her children – were nothing without his father's money and influence. She was a stay travelling between Force manors wife and tended to forget she had a son, until he did something wrong. Then, she became a harpy. Really, he preferred the weeks on end she was away, even if he had to listen to Madeline complaining about it all the time.

Madeline, unfortunately, was a problem that was always there. Always! She stalked him… he couldn't be alone with a person outside her circle of influence for five minutes before she appeared. How the Hell was he supposed to make friends if he could only be alone with hers? He couldn't even study without her interrupting because he was silent for too long! He liked reading in silence, damnation! Just because they were twins it didn't mean they appreciated the same things. Not at all, they were different people… _**totally so**_! He hated being fawned over, all those fake people, parties, outings, he liked shopping when he had nothing to do or the shops were empty, he loved the silence and peace he could get inside a library or church. She criticized everything he did… it was never good… _**never**_. She was his personal ever present nightmare.

Charles – his father – was a different case. He adored and admired his father, but the man didn't have a lot of time for the family. He always had work to do… Benjamin thought he actually tried to escape Sophie, by working overtime or just staying away from home somewhere and wished he could tell his father that strategy wouldn't work. Pity, really.

He remembered that when he was a child and closer to his father, that their tastes were very similar. They liked to stride aimless through the streets of Manhattan or the small ways of Central Park, stay in silent places like libraries, museums and churches, listen to ambient music, they loved New Age or church musics, as Madeline called the genre, and going to the opera by themselves, they found other people obsession with sports and petty problems ridiculous.

Maybe… that was why his father and him have drifted apart over the years. He was trying to be what other people expected of him, not himself and in doing so, was getting each day farther from the man that tried to teach him to be himself. **_That_** can't continue… it was up to him to fix this mess he put himself on. This was his father, they were family and had been friends until he was thirteen… They were both alone, even when in the company of each other, now. "**_That_**" – as he heard a beautiful young lady, that happened to be his best friend, say once – "simply wouldn't do".

Now, he wasn't such a terror to his father employees, on the opposite, they were and have always been on friendly terms. Some were even his and his father's friends. Their only problem with him derived from a health problem he has, something close to a psychotic hysterical destructive crises, that he had close to once a month, when a child, if he got too stressed or nervous. They were kind of dangerous to anyone around him, but his father and his old nanny Maud. But he has been controlling them well in the last decade. They go out together, talk about business, school, gossip (some of them are women), among other things. Unfortunately, the Force temper is genetic, so…

Anyway, Benjamin Force was again in one of those days he would do anything to have never left his bed in the morning. He had no idea why the Fates always conspired against him in the first part of the day… No wonder he was against getting out of bed before ten, unless if previously presented with a major motivation. Less time to be prone to accidents… but already… he already acknowledged today was going to be one of those days… and behold this fact: it was barely eight! That has to be a new record, even for him.

He was woken up at six in the morning by the phone ringing. _**At six!**_ Don't get him wrong, he was not a lazy person at all! He was normally awake by eight and studied until ten… but six! It was an abuse, an indecency… too much for a person with sleeping problems that has been overstressed for the last two months… And to whom and what did he owe this** _delightful _**pleasure? Duchezne School called to inform there wouldn't be classes today. He was understandably not impressed to say the least. Actually, he was pissed off beyond belief.

- You called…? _ he started in disbelief, before promptly turning off the phone in whoever's face it was. He was going to ignore it. He wasn't going to get stressed over a phone call, "_**at all!**_", but the damage was done already. The unfortunately stupid being decided to call again, probably believing he hasn't got the message. The problem was exactly the opposite. He had caught the stupid message. After some more ringing, he picked the phone up again and listened carefully. And then, he spoke again, full of disbelieving anger, even his father's employees, his friends, backed off and ran away.

- At six! You call my house at six in the bloody morning to tell us we won't have classes today! We don't' even take your fucking classes until the afternoon! I'm one of the damned best students of your bloody school, why the Hell would I take classes with those losers in the afternoon, if I'm awake by eight? _ and then, finally, he snapped angrily _ Because, as my medical files say, I can't get stressed in the fucking mornings! Why the Hell you did you wake me up at six in the morning for such an asinine reason?

Of course, that settled it for his terrible mood to go downhill and the whole building was subjected to one of the infamous and legendaries full blown "temper tantrums" from the youngest child of the Force Family, from the likes not seen in Manhattan since he was a child, when sweet and adorable Benjamin Jonathan Force was nicknamed Black Jack.

Everyone was shocked senseless, even him. He hadn't seen that one coming… he hasn't lost it for seven years now, no matter how stressed he was. Nowadays, the one to lose it was his twin sister Madeline, not him… and over her beauty sleep of all things.

He saw Maud order one of the younger employees to seek his father, before closing the doors to the living room, as was procedure when he was a child. Tough luck to them, his father wasn't home. He was normally the only one in the family that could calm him down when this happened. But no worries there, the raging screams of fury and frustration that were leaving his throat woke up even Sophie and Madeline, that meant he was loud enough to wake up the dead. Getting his father - that was in his office, three floors down - at home was nothing to that.

Considering that, nobody was surprised when ten minutes later, they could hear Charles Force's authority filled voice over the screams and the noise of things breaking and being torn to pieces inside the room.

- What is going on here?

Maud answered his father with practiced ease, her voice easily being heard over all the noise. It was obvious she was the one who usually dealt with the two male Force tempers.

- Someone called insistently at six, Mr. Force, and the infernal noise woke up young Benjamin. Apparently, he didn't consider the reason important enough at the time and got very angry, until he was screaming at the phone. Than, suddenly, he lost it and Black Jack came out in one of his destructive hysterical crises.

- Damnation! _ he snarled furiously, before entering the almost completely destroyed room and closing the doors behind him _ Benjamin Jonathan Force, control yourself! You are destroying the building! _ he roared over his son's screams of frustration and slowly the young man calmed down to everyone's relief, but his breathing was labored, he looked almost hurt by his father's tone alone and he was obviously not finished, even if, for now, the destruction and screaming had ended.

Charles approached and took the phone out of his son's grip

- Go change clothes, child. I will take you out for a walk as soon as I turn off this call _ he offered softly; it was obvious he didn't like to raise his voice at his son, but the boy just sat there on the couch, out of breath and completely exhausted.

- Who is there? _ he inquired at the phone calmly, but anyone that had any kind of knowledge over the head of the Force Family knew he was furious beyond reason. Everyone knew messing around with the youngest Force was a sure way of getting on the man's bad side… and that was something nobody wanted _ I hope, Eric, for yours and your family's own good, you called to say someone died, because if you dared call my house at six in the morning for any other reason, I will sue you until you won't have money enough to put food on your table without government help. What have I told everyone about calling my house number before nine? _ he stated in a tone that broke no arguments, but the other man must have said something serious, because the patriarch looked crushed and shocked for a second before going immediately business like _ When did this happen? ... Yesterday night? I see… yes, it's tradition… twelve hours. All right… next time call my personal phone or the secondary office, Eric, you have no idea of the damage you did to my son's health. Be ready to pay for the refurbishing of my living room _ he informed before turning off the phone and staring at his son that was observing the damage he had done with unseeing eyes.

He stood up, walked to the doors, opened them and ordered Maud to send his wife and daughter in, before returning to seat besides his son on the couch. The two women entered the room shocked by the level of destruction and Maud followed giving something to his son, that calmed him a bit more as soon as he touched it. He nodded at the old woman as she left the room closing the door behind her. He stared at the newcomers seeing them pursing their lips in disapproval at the boy, but wisely they kept the room silent and sat on the other side of it, on the only other non destroyed sofa in the living room.

- I don't want to know _ he cut in before any of them lost their shred of common sense and said something hurtful to**_ his_** son _ I do not care what you or anyone else think about this situation at hand so, don't say a thing. _ he stated bluntly, before starting _ Lady Cordelia Van Allen was attacked yesterday night, by several silver bloods. She is dead but wasn't drained due to the timely arrival and quick thinking of her granddaughter that somehow managed to stop them and keep them away from the dead woman. She was the oldest living Blue blood and overall one of the most knowledgeable of us since ever. The services will be today, as tradition demands, over the twelve hours after seven in the morning, at The Archangel's Cathedral _ he offered after some moments of silence _ Be ready in an hour, so we can get there for the nine o'clock service _ he informed, before leaving the destroyed room.

And that lead to Benjamin Force being in the situation he currently found himself in. It was eight something in the morning and they have just been dropped down by their driver in one of their favorite walkway to the Central Park's Cathedral. It was wide and spacious, colorful but silent, normally.

The Meteorologists and the weather in New York were driving each other crazy. It started like any other sunny day, to give the first some credit and then, out of nowhere, a lightning and thunder storm came from the sea and covered Manhattan in less than twenty minutes. Not that that was a problem to the male Forces. They insisted on being left in what used to be their usual spot and that the women should be taken to the Cathedral Park. It was pouring rain from the skies but they were both willing to get drenched to be out of that limousine. When they left the car, each with a huge parachute, as if they have planned to do that all along, his father only told the driver:

- Come pick us at the Cathedral Parking by eleven, Markus. I have a business meeting fifteen minutes later and after that you will take us home and have a free afternoon, bar any unpredictable happenings.

- Won't you want me to take you there today, Mr. Force? _ the old driver questioned curiously.

- Not today. Maybe tomorrow. _ he stated simply, the window went up and the car left them there… on the wide, empty space before them with the huge building by the end being their destination. They started their track in silence, both lost in thought.

Benjamin was in Heaven, who cared about storms? He always loved them, they were so… untamable, unstoppable. They made everything seem darker, but they also cleansed earth… They were Nature's way of saying it would protect her own and hurt what… whoever hurt them. It was protection and destruction rolled in one. His thoughts wandered to the Cathedral, the most ornate and the oldest in North America, a cherished relic from the sixteen hundreds that seemed sculpted in one single monumental block of polished stone, which exuded dignity, pomp and adoration. It was surrounded inside and out by statues of eleven different angels with two pairs of wings… archangels.

The Altar or The Sanctuary of the Archangels or The Archangels Haven or Sanctum were some of The Cathedral other names. It was rumored to have been built by the Archangels themselves to protect The United States of America against the evil and corruption of mankind. Nice romantic version of facts. It was bathed in fantastic tales and legends like those. Some said the statues moved around and changed places and positions by themselves, others said they cried tears of blood when humankind turned against itself or Nature, there are those that say it was built pearly white, but now it was almost as black as charcoal, covered in soot and grime, not only the building but also the statues. A symbol, he always thought, that the corruption and pollution of this world is beyond fixing; no, it was so extreme it could damage even the purest among the angels.

He loved to come to this place when he was a child, when he was feeling lonely, confused, angry or sad. Only his father and Maud knew that, but, believe it or not, Madeline was the one closest to the real reason, closer than even she realized. Yes, it was true that the whole place made him feel safe, cared for, cherished actually, maybe even loved, as if he was special, so his father and Maud were correct. Although, unknowingly, Madeline went right to where it also hurt and the reason he never returned, after her teasing, was because, for the first time in her life, she was absolutely right about something related to him; when she sneered at him that day and teased him about having a crush on his invisible friend… he might as well have agreed with her. No, he didn't have an invisible friend, but he did consider the statues his friends, and…

The first time he had seen one of her statues, he was shocked at how different it was from the majority of the other archangels' statues. Hers were expressive, passionate, wild, as if that being didn't have limitations or a care in the world. She was a free and capricious spirit, full of needs, wants, wishes and demands, with a commanding presence and something almost voluptuous… sinful in her posture, looks and "acts". She seemed to be always in movement as if she had too much energy and couldn't stay put. Her statues were also in very remote and hidden places around the park, as if she wasn't supposed to be seen, too sinful to be seen… an untold secret of the sculptor, his secret, his particular piece of Heaven.

The storms always reminded him of her… they were both beautiful, destructive, protective, wild, untamable, had both light and darkness in them. They were perfect.

The most on sight statues of her were on both circles of Archangels' Statues, and that was probably because all of them were represented there, but the ones that became princes. Fortunately for him, they were also his favorites.

In the one on the outside circle, she was represented with long wild hair and a mischievous smile. She seemed to be a prankster, but also very protective. Her wild hair was flying all around the place in a mess of straight, curly, wavy and plaited strands and seemed as uncontrollable as her spirit. Her position was almost as if she wanted to tell you a secret or had just told you one and wanted it to be kept between the two of you. One hand called you to her, the other was locked in the process of moving up to her full lips, her fingers already on the universal sign of someone requesting silence about something. It was an almost furtive action… she could be quickly approaching you or jumping away from you, her wings half open as if to help her keep her balance. If not for the wings, she would be better suited to be around the statues of the playful nymphs than among the pious archangels or even common angels, for that matter.

He adored that one, always had and still did. Something in her seemed to make other people nervous, wary, it frightened them, … but it soothed his soul. The plate that should carry her name had been broken long ago, just like the ones he knew to be Rephail, Razyil, Uryil, among others.

It took him sometime to find and recognize her inside the Cathedral - They were so different there! Even Mikhail and Gabryil were more formal and stiff than usual- but he did and it paid off the days it took him. Her eyes were focused on whoever was in front of her as if they were the center of her world. It was empowering to be on the receiving end of that look. Her lips were curved in a capricious smile…; her hair was straight this time around, not even one single wave; her eyes held a knowing look as if she knew you, all of you… your past, your present, your future, all you said or did in your lives… this one or the past ones; her wings were also half opened, as if she was ready to fly to be closer to you. It's name plate was also damaged, but there were visible words and where her titles should be was written "The Trickster Princess", he always thought it was a fitting title, even if that one had been one of her most serious statues.

Today he intended to go through the same ritual he always did as a child, but was frozen in his tracks as soon as he got close enough to barely see The Cathedral Park. Something in it was terribly different… in a really dark and ominous way and it had nothing to do with the copious raining. Everything was painted in sorrow, anger, pain and resentment; a deep hatred, unfocussed but powerful and all consuming, filled the whole park, but it exuded from the building. Someone or something in there was furious way past reasoning. He unconsciously inched closer to his father and a strong hand landed on his shoulder to express the man's understanding.

- They are angry, father. Someone… something in there is beyond reason _ he stated trembling, his empathy going crazy. "All that silent, caged… rage… it was barely controlled. Someone messed around with the wrong being" he thought warily.

- It's one of the Archangels _ Charles muttered worriedly, but with certainty _ I can feel it, but not from which one of them… maybe there are several… no, it's almost familiar… only one of them than.

- Charles! Jack! You are both going to stay behind! _ Sophie exclaimed from more than half a mile in front of them, already in line to enter.

- I hate when she does that! Her need for attention is sickening. I know she did that on purpose. _ he complained in a silent but annoyed way. Everyone was staring at them now and he felt like a freak show. It was obvious now: the first time he lost it in seven years made the Manhattan Gossip network quicker than The Van Allen Matriarch Funeral. It was embarrassing… senseless. He didn't even dare look at his father. If the fear on their faces is anything to go by, he must look murderous.

And if he had looked he would notice that the man indeed looked murderous, but not at his son. His wife was the one on the receiving end of it. How **_dare_** she embarrass **_his_** son in public? The line wasn't even moving yet!

- Father, I thought Mikhail and Razyil hated each other _ the young man offered curiously.

- No _ the man said distractedly _ that's not truth. They resented each other, because of Rephail. Mikhail and Rephail were twims, Hanyil and Razyil too, but they were almost one thousand years younger. Rephail practically raised the three of them himself, but separately. When Rephail left Heaven, Razyil followed suit. He continued to go to the meetings of Archangels, but he changed completely and refused to live among them. He favored the common angels and specially the cherubs over the Archangels' company. He called them **_blood traitors_** and Mikhail knew the only reason he didn't leave his spot on the circle was that Rephail would be disappointed in him if he did so.

- He never accepted any orders that didn't come from Rephail or a prince, no matter if it came from God or no. He hated God and was indeed the first of them to fall, even before Lucipher. Mikhail resented him because he was more of a brother to his twim than he ever was. They were, are and will always be jealous of each other relationship with Rephail. He was Mikhail's idol, but he was Razyil's God. Razyil fell because of Rephail, for he was lonely. He fell to seek him, to seek Rephail. _ Charles stated matter of factualy _He was never evil, never hurt anyone that didn't hurt others before… he was incapable of hurting anyone physically without necessity. He was terrified of his own power… it was too destructive, he always said. Some thought he was joking, but he wasn't. Razyil never joked with things that could hurt other beings. He was one of the most nature related archangels… he had never related well to humans, just as Rephail probably never did.

- Mikhail disapproved of the other's public behavior and lack of control and obedience, while Razyil disapproved of the other better than thou arrogance, just because he was the oldest it shouldn't mean he could order the others around. Why? _ he finished.

- Because, to me at least, they seem to have found a common ground. They look downright pissed off. _ he offered, pointing at the huge statues of both archangels that stood by the front gates, just on top of the stairs right at the outer circle.

Mikhail's stared the newcomers down in a frigid condescending way, a look full of superiority and disapproval, anger even; but the other looked frightening, his icy stare proclaimed them unworthy, undeserving of being in his presence or that of the others. His eyes full of several unspoken, but plainly noticeable accusations. They looked entirely forbidding and foreboding with their unmerciful stares and their hands out (left in Mikhail's case and right on Razyil's), palms showing in the universal sign of "stop"… as if to ward the place against evil. The other hand was on the hilt of their respective swords, each already half free of their scabbards. Their wings were half opened too and formed a "M", almost crossing each other, but in the middle there was a space for a small group of three or four people to enter The Cathedral Proper.

- Our time here is ending. Humanity has became too corrupt, even for the silver bloods… at least, the more moderate ones. They are nervous and antsy… but those were not the ones to attack yesterday. Everything, until that attack, lead us to believe Lucipher or Razyil might be controlling them, but neither would order an attack on her. She was family to them both and no matter how evil, cruel or twisted they have become over the millennia, family had always been the most important thing to the both of them. Whoever wanted to make us believe it was one of them, just blew it in their impatience for knowledge.

- I thought I've already seen all statues, but I've never seen those around _ Benjamin muttered warily, but his father heard it anyway and stopped walking, making the young man unconsciously stop too, as if ordered, but his eyes were on the statues.

- You do know the legends, right? _ his father inquired softly, barely heard over the storm and he only nodded knowing his father understood his need to stay silent now, but what the man said next shocked and relieved him to his core _ They are no legends. These statues… they hold a piece of our souls, our feelings, our memories and knowledge. Mikhail's have been angry for a time now. We know something is terribly wrong, but we don't seem to be able to distinguish fact or fiction. My memories are all jumbled and contradict what he says and what I believe is the truth _ he mourned.

- So, they really are there? _ the younger male questioned in his relief.

- Yes, why do you ask?

- I thought I was going insane. You know? Like having imaginary friends at my age… _ he breathed in pure relief. "_**She was real!**_" was the only thing crossing his mind. _ I always felt so protected and safe. Remember when I told you, when I was six, that I had a crush on a girl? _ he asked exuberantly, much to his father amusement. The man nodded. They were already at the base of the stairs _ I still do, on the same girl _ he continued, uncaring about who heard _ Are you ready to meet my princess, father? _ he asked excitedly and pleased. It was obvious to everyone, the young man felt liberated, by whatever it was his father had told him on the rain

- Yes. Where is she?

- Inside. _ he stated simply, before reaching the frozen line. _ What seems to be the problem, sir? _ he questioned the slightly older gentleman just before him.

- One of the ladies up in the front name doesn't seem to be on the list. _ the blond haired male stated matter of factually and he and his father looked to see it was Sophie or Madeline.

- Oh! _ his smile disappeared, much to everyone's chagrin, specially his father's _ Those are my mother and sister _ he confessed in a bit of embarrassment to everyone understanding. _ Father, do you think the people would be angry if I tried to interrupt them to make things move a bit? _ he questioned softly.

- Not at all, young man. If you make this line move, some of us would probably write you down in our wills. _ the man said as a joke and some others nodded in agreement.

- Don't even joke about those things. _ he warned worriedly. _ I'll probably go before you will. _ he muttered as he passed, running in the rain, having left his parachute to the man and his little daughter that were drenched by the rain.


End file.
